


Gypsy Soul

by Jiffers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiffers/pseuds/Jiffers
Summary: Alistair is - and will always be - my first DA love.  I had to give him a somewhat happy ending to the Fade.





	1. Chapter 1

Alistair knew he was in trouble the minute he held his sword point to her neck. If he had realized his fate was sealed with the lift of a raven brow, he might have left the Wardens on their own. The dank walls of the cave seemed to swell in the flickering of a candle set atop the small travel table. "Alistair, I brought the Inquisitor..." Hawke's baritone trailed off with a startled laugh. "Hmmm... had I known you wanted the Herald here to skewer her, I might have rethought that. Really," he tisked. "What would Andraste say?"

The tall blonde flushed as he realized the blade still rested on her neck, slightly indenting the pale skin above her collar. His grip wavered and the tip slipped to pierce the leather tunic covering her chest. "Maker's breasts - I mean breath," he stuttered letting the sword fall to the sand with a muffled thud. "I am very sorry, Lady Trevelyan. I guess being on the receiving end of a manhunt has my nerves shot."

The Inquisitor chuckled and lifted her chin. She shot him a cheeky grin and remarked, "I can't say it's the first time in my life or even the first time today. But it's certainly the most enjoyable so far.”

Hawke bit back a laugh and moved past them into the cave. He started rifling through the papers on the table. “Stop scaring the man, Lace. Just because he faced down a dragon of an archdemon doesn’t mean he’s equipped for your brand of crazy” He turned and leaned back against a stone pillar with his arms crossed. “But please, don’t stop on my account. I have a front row seat so I can fill Varric in on what exactly happened when Crazy met the Warden Prince.” Alistair shot him a glare, but the tall rogue just smiled and gestured for them to continue.

Her blue eyes danced with mirth and as she turned her gaze back to him, Alistair felt his breath catch. "Don't worry about it - overmuch. Wait until Varric hears about how I was held at sword point by The Alistair. It will spawn an entire new serial."

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really need to change my name," he sighed. “You would think after ten years that I would be old news.”

"Why?" she asked, flashing a deep set of dimples. "It's a grand name, simply steeped in history." Dropping into a low Orlesian bow she continued. "My name is Lacey if there are to be introductions."

An inelegant snort sounded from behind her as a slender elf clad in green armor stepped from the shadows. "Stealing my lines, Inquisitor?" he inquired.

"It was a good line," she shrugged. "Worked on me didn't it?"

He shook his head in mock disapproval and approached the duo. Casting an eye at the discarded sword at their feet he quirked a brow in her direction. "Offering your usual impression of the Inquisition, Lacey?"

Her dimples flashed again as she extended her arms out with a flourish. "I am innocent this time, Lethallin. The pointy end was already here when I arrived. Solas, meet The Alistair. The Alistair, this is Solas." She stood back, resting her hands on her hips and smirked in their direction.

Alistair sighed and shook the elf's hand with a firm grip. "Will she keep doing that the entire time?" he asked plaintively.

Solas pretended to think for a moment, resting one long finger on his chin. "Yes, I am afraid she will. Once Inquisitor Lacey gets the bit between her teeth, there's no living with her. It is best to let her get it out of her system. I rather think being the youngest child of her parents; she had to find artful ways to achieve attention."

"Hello! I'm right here, you know," the dark haired healer rolled her eyes. "Geesh! You talk about me like I'm four."

"That's because you act like it." The mage gave her a pointed look and she sighed dramatically.

"Believe it or not I am fully capable of acting my age when needed," she informed Alistair with a laugh. "I am Lacey Elizabeth Trevelyan, formerly of the Ostwick Circle. I trained under First Enchanter Lydia and Senior Enchanter Glendel up until the Rebellion. My specialties are healing, advanced electrical powers and of course this." She held up her left hand and Alistair noted the eerie green glow centered in her palm. "You are The Alistair who defeated the Archdemon in the last Blight and gave up the throne in order to reunite the Wardens in Ferelden and Orlais." She peered at him with a delighted gleam. "The hero prince of many girlish fantasies and one, I'm sure, who has lots of stories to tell."

Alistair felt his jaw drop open as she waited expectantly. He blinked a couple of times then looked at Solas in mute appeal. The elf just chucked and adjusted his grip on the wooden staff. Running a hand through his hair, the Warden spoke, "Umm, well met Lady Trevelyan."

She interrupted him. "Lacey."

"Lacey," he corrected himself. "Please just call me Alistair. The Blight has been over for a decade. I'm just a Warden now. I left the hero title behind years ago and as for prince," he shuddered. "That was one title that never quite fit me. I've been investigating an incident that involves the Wardens of Orlais. Hawke has been helping me with the connection to Corypheus. Lady Tre..." She held up a finger in warning. "Lacey," he amended. "Any help you can give - or that I can provide to you – would be welcome indeed.” His ramble came to a stop and he shot her a look of boyish hope that was at odds with the scar crossing his cheek.

Lacey remained silent for a moment as she eyed him with a healer’s gaze. He looked tired – deep lines radiating out from his light brown eyes. They gave the impression that he was a man who laughed a lot rather than age. She hadn’t been lying with the girlish fantasy remark. Many times had the young mages – herself included – sighed over the thought of the handsome unwilling prince who had struck the killing blow. The stories had become so overblown in time with embellishments that she was tempted to check for blessed Andraste herself to appear at his side. The hero was still there, she thought. It was evident in his bearing, but the youthfulness of his spirit had remained. She smiled as she realized the man who stood before her was a lot more interesting with the weight of a few years on him verses the boy who lived in those stories. Alistair shuffled nervously - rubbing the back of his neck at her perusal, as the moment stretched on. With a tilt of her head, she took pity on him.

“Alright, Warden Alistair… show me what you’ve got.”


	2. Chapter 2

The shadows danced on the grey walls of the cavern as two heads bent over the table in rapt discussion. The first candle had burned out long ago and now it looked as if the fifth wasn't far behind it. The two men - one blonde, one dark sable - examined the map endlessly, plotting and rerouting the week long trip through the sands of the Western Approach.

Lacey decided enough was enough after she discovered she had dozed off on Solas' shoulder for the third time. Luckily, the stoic elf had merely adjusted the fur pelt and continued his meditation from the natural stone bench they both rested on. He cracked an eye open in amusement as she brushed the drool spot from the pelt and stood up. Arching her back in a stretch, she growled in frustration and stalked over to the table, waiting for the two men to notice her. After several minutes of standing there tapping her foot, the petite mage grew impatient. With a gesture at a spot about twelve inches off the map she snapped her fingers. Hawke retreated with a curse as a small electrical ball appeared between the two men. Alistair stared at the small storm with a puzzled expression, and then poked at it. With a yelp, he stumbled back as a tiny bolt shocked his finger. He turned a wounded look at her and stuck the burned digit in his mouth.

"What in Andraste's name was that for, Lace?" the tall rogue asked. "I think you nearly singed my brows off." He rubbed at the offended area above his eyes with a frown. "Do you know how long it took me to grow these?"

She rolled her eyes at Hawke and pointed at the pile of candle bits littering the floor next to the table. "You gentlemen might not have noticed but we've been in here for hours. I'm tired and stiff. Just pick a route and stick with it. You two can even argue about it the whole trip out there and no one will notice but the fennec foxes. We're just going to meet you there in the end so my being here any longer than two hours ago is a moot point." She moved closer to the table and pointed at a small area just west of their current location on the map. "THIS is my home for the night. I have a cot. In a tent. Which is a whole sight better than a stone. I propose that we meet here," she stabbed a finger at the Western Approach, "in one week. That will give me time to get back to Skyhold and fill the rest in on the plan. We will be moving fast and light so I don't anticipate needing more than basic traveling supplies. I do hope," she paused with a smirk, "that you two can come to some decision on how to get there by then?"

Alistair lifted a tawny brow. "Oh I don't know," the Warden drawled. "We might get lost wandering around in all that desert, everything looking alike, with only more sand to keep us company." He pretended to examine his finger, and then blinked innocently at her.

Lacey clapped him on the shoulder. "Well then," she said with a smile. "We'll just have to start the party without you. Take all the credit for solving the Grey Warden Mystery. I'll bring Varric - he'll spin such an epic tale that will be a bestseller in the farthest reaches of Ostwick.  Call it The Champion and The Prince Won't Stop For Directions."  Her laugh trailed after her as she made for the tunnel leading out of the cave. "Until then gentlemen..."

 Solas climbed gracefully to his feet and started after her.  He paused for a moment at the wooden door and eyed the two men standing by the table.  "I believe I mentioned before that Lady Lacey can let certain things get out of her system," he grinned at their horrified expressions.  "However, sometimes that getting part can take a while.  I will see you both at the tower.  Good night." The slender elf inclined his head at them then followed her down the twisting passage.

After a few minutes, Alistair moved to clean up the table. "Do you think she'll do it?" he asked Hawke as he gathered papers and thrust them into a leather satchel.

The dark haired rogue shook his head and rested both hands on his temples.  "Oh she'll do it.  She'll do worse.  And Varric?  He'll happily throw his lot in with her."  He chuckled and walked over to pick up the sword that still lay discarded on the cave floor.  "I've gotten to know the little fireball in the last couple of weeks at Skyhold.  She's something else - Varric christened her "Crazy", but I think she uses that as a cover.  Unfortunately, in this case I wouldn't put it past the two of them.  She has that dwarf wrapped solidly around her finger."  He paused and smiled at the thought as he cleaned off the blade.  "Varric has always been a joker, but Lace brings out the best in him.  A side I haven't seen since before Bartrand locked us in that damn Thaig.  I suggest we meet them at the tower on time otherwise we'll have to fight over which of us is The Champion."

The Warden nodded in agreement as he stared thoughtfully down the tunnel.  "Agreed," he said, turning his warm brown gaze towards Hawke.  "So you've gotten to know Lady Trev...  Lacey," he corrected himself, "What can you tell me about her?"

Hawke laughed and handed him the steel weapon.  "We've got to talk about something other than who has more sand in what places over the next week.  And I can't think of a more enjoyable topic than ways of getting even with Maiden Fair."

With the candle extinguished and all signs of the planning tucked away, the two warriors left the cavern and blended into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was just past the highest point when Lacey's group crept up to the outskirts of the stone temple rising form the desert.  They had made their silent approach behind the cover of the dunes and now rested in the slight shade of a large rock outcropping.  Varric peered around the edge and scouted the entrance to the tower.

 "There's a good sized way in," he commented as the squinted against the bright light.  "Looks like a bridge after that.  Maybe fifty feet long?" he gauged.  "I can see some movement further in, but we're too far away to see what or where."  He pulled his head back in and rested Bianca on his lap.  "Not that I mind not being seen...  I just like to know my chances of being fired at today."

 Lacey snorted in amusement and took her turn peeking around the formation.  "We're in a giant sandbox, Varric.  At a Tiventer ruin overrun with demented and/or possibly hypnotized Warden Mages.  I think our chances of flying objects increased just by my saying that."  She bit her lip as she eyes the stone pillars marking the opening to the bridge.  "I don't see either Hawke or Alistair."

 An inelegant snort sounded from the other side of the outcropping as Cassandra ducked her own dark head in.  "They're resourceful, Lacey. I doubt you scared either of them off," the Seeker remarked.

"Not for lack of trying," Solas offered from Cassandra's other side with a slight twist of his thin lips.  He nodded at Lacey and continued.  "Since all she's talked about since Crestwood is meeting The Alistair, I'm confused as to why she isn't out with them and not here with us."

The mage blushed and dropped her chin into her chest.

Varric's eyebrows met his hairline in mock disbelief.  "Oh I see," the dwarf rubbed his chin in thought.  "Crazy has a crush on the Hero of the Fifth Blight."  He feinted a dramatic flinch as she threw a handful of sand in his direction.  "Yep, that confirms it.  Seeker, our little Herald is all grown up."

Cassandra bit back a smile as she regarded the embarrassed mage.  "I see that, Varric.  Do we need to ask the man where his intentions lie?"

Lacey squeaked and hid her face in her hands.  "No!" she whispered urgently.  "I do - I mean I did have maybe a small crush on him.  But it was years ago.  The stories we all told.  I was young and silly."  She straightened up and glared between Varric and the Seeker.  "He'd never look at someone like me.  I mean - I'm just me and he's a freaking prince.  I wouldn't even know what to say to him," she finished glumly.

"Say to who?" a voice asked over her shoulder.  She jumped with a yelp and slapped her hand over her mouth before turning to see Hawke's amused expression as he crept into their hiding place.

"Corypheus!" she blurted frantically.

"You want to talk to Corypheus?"  Hawke eyed her as Varric snickered.  "I thought the goal was to eliminate him, not have tea and crumb cakes with him."  The tall rogue settled into the shelter and exchanged nods with the rest of the party.  "That would be an interesting plan, but I'm not sure it's the best plan you could have come up with in this case.  You know - vile darkspawn magister and all."

Lacey narrowed her eyes at him even as she still felt the heat in her cheeks.  "I could always just ask him politely to quietly bugger off and oh!  Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to close the Breach on your way out?"  With a toss of her hair, she looked around.  "Where did you bury Alistair?

Hawke gestured roughly towards the south.  "Somewhere out there," he said with a grin.  "Found a nice spot... great view.  Pity about the hyenas." 

Cassandra stared at him in shock and the dark haired man laughed.  "He's fine," he admitted with a wink.  "He's been watching the action in the tower from different vantage points.  Guy might be just shy of elderly for a Warden, but he still is a keen strategist.  He should be here soon.  We watched you making your way here for a while.  Don't worry," he assured the group.  "The only thing they're interested in up there is whatever foul plan they're waiting on.  You picked a good position and we'll be able to approach unnoticed when it's time.  For now, I suggest we be ready to move quickly on Alistair's signal."

With a sigh, Lacey leaned back against the rock and studied the shadows that had grown longer as they talked.  "I'm really hoping that it's all a misunderstanding and the Wardens are not involved," she stated.  "But I'm afraid with all we've uncovered that won't be the case."

Hawke pulled out a sharpening stone and his dagger.  He settled with his back against the rock next to her and ran the stone over the edge of his blade.  "It might be blood magic," he mused.  "It can take a person over so completely that they lose sight of who they are.  Much less what is right.  I've seen mages do awful things for the power rush that sort of magic brings them."

Lacey cocked her head at him.  "Do you hate mages?" she asked quietly.

"Maker no!  My father was a mage.  My sister IS a mage and one of the gentlest people I know.  And Anders... Well that's another story. Magic is to serve man," he cast her a sideways look as he continued to hone the dagger.  "But I think blood magic corrupts that into magic should serve mages.  You have great power at your fingertips.  You ARE a weapon if you choose to be.  Most mages choose otherwise and only want to help people and serve the Maker.  But blood magic takes that choice and twists it into a need - a desire even."  His hands stopped their careful motion and he stared into his memories for a moment as the dagger lay unheeded across his leg.

Lacey watched him silently as he sifted through his thoughts.  She rested a soft hand on his arm and he blinked back into the present.  With a wry grin he lifted her fingers and brushed a kiss across upon her knuckles.  "You, my dear Crazy, are the best sort of mage out there.  And I would know."

 "Not to interrupt this touching scene, but I totally am."  Alistair surprised them by appearing round the rock behind them.  He scowled at the sight of their entwined hands and shot Hawke a quick glare.  Lacey found herself blushing again and snatched her hand back but he had already turned away towards the rest of the party.  "And now if you're quite done, it's show time."


	4. Chapter 4

Hawke and Lacey exchanged puzzled glances as the scrambled to their feet. She stared after Alistair's retreating back as the Warden stalked away.

"Did we do something wrong?" She started chewing on her bottom lip.

"You didn't, but I may have," Hawke answered. He put his arm out to stop her from going after Alistair's proud figure. "Give me a couple of minutes to talk to him. You get everyone ready to move when we get back." He gazed down into her anxious face. "Trust me, sweetling. He has absolutely no reason to be angry with you. If anything, I've put my foot into it." He moved towards the armor clad figure and while Cassandra and Solas pretended to be busy with their packs.

Lacey watched the tall Warden shake his head, then move reluctantly as Hawke tugged on his arm down the dune to a more private place. She knelt beside Varric where he sat oiling Bianca in the shade. The sandy haired dwarf nodded to the pile of bolts at his feet, and she grabbed a few to hand him when he was ready. "I have no idea what just happened," she murmured.

"Oh I do," Varric answered with a chuckle. He held his hand out for the bolts and started feeding them into the chamber on his beloved crossbow. He nodded down the hill towards the heated discussion. "Your warden is suffering from a little bit of unexpected jealousy."

The mage's forehead crinkled in confusion. "Jealous? Of what?"

"You know that little crush you may - or may not - have on Ser Prince? I'm starting to think you're not the only one." He stopped fiddling with the arrows and stared thoughtfully towards the talking figures.

Lacey's jaw dropped open as she jumped up. Her gaze switched rapidly from the sandy haired rogue's amused expression to the two men now shaking hands in the distance. "HAWKE has a crush on Alistair?" The atmosphere in the shelter grew absolutely silent. She whirled around to see all three of her companions staring at her wearing identical expressions of shock. "What?"

"Andraste's ashes, Lacy," Cassandra exclaimed. "Are you really that naive?"

The slender mage colored and her shoulders fell. "I'm so confused."

Varric stood and placed his hand on her arm. "No, Crazy," he started. "I think Ferelden has a bit of a thing for you. While Hawke might find him appealing, I'm pretty sure Blondie would have something to say about that." At Cassandra's snort, he waved a hand in her direction.  "Yes, Seeker.  Hawke is still very much in touch with Anders. Much to my dismay," he muttered.

"I see we have much to discuss at a later time," the Seeker shot him a pointed glance. He sighed and nodded before turning back to Lacey.

"I'm going to pay for that one too, I think," he sighed. "Look, Crazy. You've been pretty isolated in that tower of yours, correct?" She nodded and he grabbed her hand between his rougher ones. "From what I've heard, Alistair has been pretty isolated as well. He doesn't exactly give off the air of someone who has a lot of experience in the ways of the heart. And for all your bravado, I'm pretty sure you're in the same boat." At her nod, he continued, "I get it. He's a hero. You're working your way up to that title. But you're both people first. Maybe this isn't the best time to be connecting with someone. But shouldn't you both be able to seize a little happiness?"

Solas nodded his agreement as he carefully brushed the sand from his fur throw.  “Happiness can be fleeting – as can sadness and anger.  There are many epic romances in the Fade.  Spirits of Love are just as important as those of Valor, Compassion and Wisdom.  No will fault either of you for acting on that.”  He motioned down the dune and drew their attention to the men headed back to the shelter.  “I might suggest, however, that we reconvene this conversation at a later time.” 

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Hawke huffed in frustration as he followed Alistair across the sand.  “Hey!”  He reached out to grab the taller man’s arm, but the Warden snatched it away.   With a growl, he grabbed him again and got a grip on his elbow.  “Stop for a second!  We need to talk.”

Alistair halted in his tracks with his back straight and his jaw clenched.  “I’m quite sure we have nothing to talk about outside of getting to that tower.”  His hand fisted at his side and Hawke stepped around to face him.

“No, I’m pretty sure we do.  Look, just give me a couple of minutes.  I think it’s important and Maker knows we won’t be able to function as the best team if we don’t get this out of the way.”  The dark haired rogue stood patiently in front of him until the other man sighed and met his eyes.  He nodded and started down the hill.  Hawke paced along at his side, but held his tongue until they were a safe distance away.

Before Hawke could get a word out, Alistair whirled around on him.  “I know this is stupid and I’m not twelve anymore.”  He pulled off an armored gauntlet and ran a hand through this hair in agitation.  “I’m not good with saying what I mean and even less with women.  It’s just not something I ever did.  I mean first I was just a bastard who was always underfoot, then in the Chantry the Revered Mother had charge over me and there was just never time.”  He pulled the other gauntlet off and tossed them on the sand.  “Then once Duncan recruited me…” His face stilled and Hawke could see a slight shimmer of tears before he blinked them away.

“Alistair,” he started, “there’s something you should know.”

“No,” the Warden interrupted him.  “Please – let me finish.  I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I’ve come to admire you in that time.  I can see why Lacey would prefer you to this.”  He gestured in Hawke’s direction and then his own.

Hawke felt his jaw drop at Alistair’s assumption.  A long moment hung between them before he felt a low laugh bubble up.  He clamped his mouth shut in an effort to keep it in, but it came out as a strangled snort.  The ex-Templar looked at him in disbelief which only served to increase the rogue’s mirth more. 

“Wait, wait!”  He found himself grabbing the other man’s arm again and silently begged Andraste for patience.  “Let’s get this straight.  I get that you don’t have a lot of experience for a man of your age.”  Hawke winked at Alistair to show he was kidding.  “And I can understand how that might play into misunderstanding what was going on up there.  Andraste’s arse, Alistair!  That girl is like a little sister to me.  Trust me – the only affection I have for her is the same as I have for Bethany.”  The Warden’s shoulders relaxed and Hawke noted he looked comically dejected.  “Look…  Lacey is a good sort.  She’s all heart and brains which in itself is a terrifying combination.  Plus, it’s not like she’s interested in me either.”  He paused to let his words sink in. 

Alistair stared at his feet for a moment, considering Hawke’s words.  He played with the sand with a toe before looking up to meet the other’s blue eyes.  “I’m a fool,” he started softly.

“No you aren’t,” the rogue assured him.  “You’re acting like every man in Thedas has at one time or another.”  He bent down and rescued the gauntlets from the sand before handing them back to Alistair.  “I know this isn’t the best timing and there’s a lot more going on with this Calling than I think you’re letting on.  But love has its own timetable – there isn’t always a script and Maker knows you don’t need anyone else’s approval.  So why _not_ find happiness where and when you can?  Besides,” he clapped him on the back.  “None of us may even be here tonight much less a month for now.  One thing I’ve learned from Anders is that plans change, usually when you aren’t looking.”

The Warden shot him a grateful smile.  “I wish I’d met you earlier.  You know I would have stayed to help in Kirkwall if I could have, but…”

“Wardens do not involve themselves in wars like this.”    They finished the statement together, laughing.

“Well, it might not have turned out for the best, but at least it turned out,” Hawke chuckled.  “All I could think of was that the Wardens were supposed to be more serious.”

Alistair grinned and offered him a hand clasp.  “Yes, I get that a lot.”

They turned and started back up the dune. 


End file.
